


Firsts

by kayxpc



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: First Times, Fluff, Jean teaches Jeremy French, M/M, jerejean, lots and lots of fluff, this is purely self indulgent, very brief mention of homophobia, very brief mention of past violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9498083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayxpc/pseuds/kayxpc





	

The first time Jean Moreau noticed that Jeremy Knox was attractive, wasn't really the first time.

He'd known _of_ Jeremy from Exy of course; captain of the team always coming second to himself and the Ravens. If anyone saw Jeremy, his California-tanned skin, sandy blonde hair and ocean blue eyes, it was blatantly obvious how good he looked. He was fit, athletic and outgoing, a _sweetheart_. Jean didn't know that last part until he moved to California.

Nevertheless, Jean noticed his second day in California. It was move-in day for everyone luckily, so he wasn't sticking out too much. Of course, everyone still stared at him and the bullseye on his face in the shape of a number three. Jeremy's parents had money and he had the best of everything already brought up to the room. Jean had nice things, far fewer though. They came back to Jeremy's Jeep for his last bag, finally.

"I got it," he'd said, grabbing the duffle bag before Jean could. Jean shut the back door of the Jeep and followed him inside. They were climbing the stairs to the forth floor dorms, the dorm they were now sharing, both panting a little from the sweltering mid-day heat. Jeremy rounded the fourth flight of stairs a few seconds before him, so they could see one another.

It should've been a simple glance, a brush of eye contact that everyone had, but it wasn't.

_It so wasn't._

Jeremy was wearing a damp tee and shorts, showing off expanses of tanned, toned skin. His hair was disheveled and he was all sweaty like Jean was. When he looked up to catch his gaze Jeremy gave him a lopsided grin, still marching upwards. Jean's heart did a little hop in his chest, because Jeremy was hot, for lack of a better word. Of course he knew that, but he never actively thought it. He wouldn't ever think about anyone like that at The Nest. For starters, he wasn't allowed to do anything that would distract him from his duty to the Moriyamas: playing Exy. Riko also tried to beat the homosexuality out of him.

  
The first time Jean Moreau realized that Jeremy Knox was his best friend was an extremely rare, rainy day. California was in a drought, so when they woke up to a downpour it was like Christmas in March.

The rest of the team ended up in their room, taking various seats, bean bags, pallets on the floor, he and Jeremy on the couch. Laila declared that they _had_ to commemorate this day by spending it the way others did; cuddling up and having a movie marathon. So someone (Jean) had popped in the newly acquired DVD of Jurassic World. Jeremy really wanted to see it, and Jurassic Park, was his favorite after all. He plopped back onto the his end of the couch, Jeremy absentmindedly throwing him a stray blanket. Jean wrapped his legs and feet in it immediately, which made Jeremy laugh a little. He knew that Jean was always a little bit on the cold side, his feet especially. (For Christmas he'd bought him like, twenty pairs of fuzzy socks). Jean's mom used to tell him that French people had cold blood. Jean knew it was really because his mother passed along her bad circulation.

Laila and Alvarez must have been popping thirty bags of popcorn, being in the kitchen for so long.

"Hurry!" James shouted when the title screen appeared.

"Okay! Okay! We're just getting the drinks! Okay we've got..." she started mumbling names under her breath with the according beverage selection.

"Wait– Jean did you say you wanted a blue Gatorade?" She shouted. Jean made a face of disgust but Jeremy answered before he wiped it off.

"Red, in a glass of ice!" He shouted back, before turning the sound on the TV up. Jean stared at him, while Jeremy hyper-focused on dinosaurs. Nobody ever knew things about Jean the way he did. Nobody ever cared that much.  
The girlfriends came back with a huge basket of snacks and a big tray of drinks to hand out. Alvarez handed Jean his first since it was the only one in a glass and could spill easily.

"You're fucked up, Jean." She made a face at his drink.

"I think I'm fucked up for more than just my drink preferences, but thanks." He shot a grin at her and she rolled her eyes. His humor was twisted in the sort of way that made some people uncomfortable but never his team.

"Weird right?" Jeremy catches his own Gatorade and bag of Funyuns. "He says our refrigerator doesn't get it cold enough." Jeremy shoots him a grin and the girls shake their heads.

There it was again. Jeremy saying these things, things nobody else would ever bother to remember or even pay attention to. Jeremy threw a piece of popcorn at him and startled him out of staring. He thought, _this is my best friend,_ and popped the piece into his mouth with a smile.

  
When Jean Moreau realized he might have feelings for Jeremy Knox, it was at an afternoon practice.

Classes had been brutal that day because even though he'd been at USC six months, all his classmates wanted to hear his life story — and were not shy about asking for it. If he heard one more mention of the name Riko he might puke. The weight of their stares lifted as he stepped onto the court. He didn't know when, but Exy had become the sport he once knew, the sport he _loved_. Stepping onto the court wasn't scary anymore, it was spectacular.

Jeremy shouted a greeting at him as he collected stray Exy balls out of the goal. Jean changed quickly and joined everyone for laps. It felt good just to stretch out after sitting in hard plastic seats all day. He felt like he could run all night. Alas, Jeremy started drills. It was strange, the way Jeremy captained, but Jean thought perhaps it was normal. Riko being captain hadn't exactly been a realistic gauge of behavior. It was just that Jeremy was so kind. Sure, he bossed them around, but he was still Jeremy, on the court, off the court. It didn't matter.

They were doing three on threes. Three backliners/strikers, goalkeeper, dealers. Jean was defending next to James and Laila, against Jeremy, Kate, and Francesca. They never took it easy on each other, Kate body-checked like they had personally offended her. Jeremy kept an eye on everyone, less tackles and more tactics.

Jean pushed Kate off of him, not a easy feat considering she was solid muscle, even if he had a good six inches on her.

"Oh come on Jean, you can do better than that!" She laughed coming at him again. She slung the ball against the wall to the right of him, ducking under his swing and catching the ball on rebound.

"Fuck," Jean muttered. He heard Jeremy make a noise close to but not quite a laugh behind him.

"I heard that," Jean called out without getting distracted again. The ball came his way and he slammed it farther than half court, right into the other game.

"Whatcha gonna do about it, _Moreau?_ " Jeremy's barely visible grin sent a flush of warmth through him. He never called Jean that unless he was teasing him.

Alvarez, goalie on the other side of the court, smashed the ball back to them. Her not-aimed angle sent it flying off of the left wall and to Jean again. He caught it mid air and flung it Jeremy's way. The striker caught it with ease and jumped through the space between Jean and James, lighting the goal up red. Everyone let out a cheer and retook their respective places. Jeremy walked past Jean, playfully bumping his hip with his own.

"Cute, Moreau."

Jeremy missed Jean's pink flush that had nothing to do with practice. His first thought was _uh-oh._

  
The first time Jean Moreau realized he was in love with Jeremy Knox, it was a flood of emotion like he'd never known.

His one year anniversary of moving to California was coming up and he and Jeremy had been together for almost two months. It took him a month after that scrimmage to come to terms with his feelings for his best friend. Another month for him to get so fed up with being afraid he walked right up to Jeremy in their kitchen, the early light of morning casting shadows, and kissed him.

He was done being afraid. Jeremy made him feel _safe_ and every moment since that kiss was the happiest Jean had ever been. It was everything: from this being his first relationship, to this being the first time he fell in love. He got butterflies like the second-grade version of himself never got to have. He got the rush of arousal that his twenty-two year old self had never indulged. Not that he had, yet. Jean was still a bit... skittish about sex. Jeremy got so upset when Jean tried to apologize for his apprehension in bed.

"You do not, _ever_ have to apologize to me for that." He had taken Jean's face, streaked with stray tears in his hands. "Ever, Jean Moreau."

And Jean believed him. He believed him so much, it made his chest ache and flutter weakly as if it were a light trying to go out. Dancing on the edge of something Jean never dreamed he would have.

Jeremy loved it when Jean spoke French. He got all giddy, even though he had no clue what Jean was saying. When fall semester came around he said "I want to take French, but also don't want to ruin the mystery." He frowned as his pen hesitated above the registration form. Jean kissed his temple.

"Afraid if you know what I'm saying, I'll be boring?"

Jeremy caught his chin between his thumb and forefinger before he moved away.

"You," he kissed him, "Jean Moreau, could never be boring."

  
The second week of classes already had Jean roped into helping Jeremy with his homework. He could do it perfectly fine on his own, and he wasn't looking for a way to cheat; it was mostly just to hear Jean speak French.

"Okay so, comment allez-vous means how are you?"

Jean nodded. "It's pronounced commo talle vou." He explained. Jeremy moved his mouth in an overly theatrical way as he said it. Then with an awful French accent.

Jean had gotten his accent back after all this time away from The Nest. It felt so good, to be connect to Marseilles in that way.

"Dear god. Is that how I sound?" He asked, horrified. Jeremy laughed and kissed his frown away.

"No. Your accent is adorable."

"Okay." Jean said with a quick smile before flipping the page. If he kissed Jeremy again he'd probably get too distracted to finish common phrases.

"Qui est-ce?"

Jeremy smiled dreamily at him until Jean snapped his fingers.

"Right, uh... c'est Kate. Right?"

Jean nodded again. It was simple, but Jeremy was already doing so well it made him swell with pride.

"Okay, how do you say, I love you?"

"Je t'aime," Jeremy replied with a smile playing at his lips. Jean tried so hard not to let those words get to him. Jeremy wasn't saying it to him, they'd only been dating two months. But god, did it sound good rolling off his tongue.

"So how would you say, my love?"

"Uhhh, mi amor?"

Jean giggled a little. "That's Spanish, mon amor."

Jeremy made a shocked face.

  
"Why didn't you correct me? I've been calling you that forever, thinking I'm speaking French!" He pouted his bottom lip out and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I _was_ correcting you. Every time I said it back."

"That doesn't count," Jeremy said, his resident grin taking place. "Every time you start speaking French I kinda go–" he spun his finger next to his head, indicating that he went a little crazy.

"Cute, _mon amour._ "

Jean leaned in again, his hand wrapping around the back of Jeremy's neck. He kissed him softly, lost in the feeling of warmth and want. Jeremy threaded his fingers through the dark hair at Jeans nape. They parted, warm breaths mingling between them. Their foreheads pressed together, eyes still closed as if they were recovering from their kiss. Perhaps they were. Jean pulled away minutely, looking into the deep blue of Jeremy's eyes and wondering how he deserved this. He lifted a hand to cradle his cheek, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone. Jeremy leaned into the touch, as if he were intoxicating.

"You really are my love." Jean whispered. He said it because people, possibly Jeremy, called friends 'love' just like others called friends 'honey'. Jeremy needed to know that Jean was irrevocably in love with him.

"I love you, Jeremy." He said again, because once it was out it felt addictive to say. He wanted to scream it. Jeremy was breathing heavily, his eyes boring into Jean.

"I know it's only been a few months and this is probably crazy but—"

Jeremy shut him up with a kiss. It was still soft, but infinitely hungrier. His hand tightened in Jean's hair and his teeth barely grazed his bottom lip.

"This _is_ crazy," Jeremy confirmed. His lips were still touching Jean's. It felt electric, every movement of their joined lips sending sparks flying. "But I love you too. I'm in love with you, Jean Moreau."

Jean decided, as a last coherent thought before he handed himself over to the bliss of kissing his boyfriend that, he had never been happier than this moment.


End file.
